Stronger
by GreenGreyBlack
Summary: Strength is a weakness in its own right.


**This story could be considered a stand alone or a prequel to Beneath the Facade. Review.**

* * *

_**Stronger**_

Sif wasn't moulded for breakdown, sure as hell wasn't moulded for heartbreak either.

She was strong, too strong for her own good, too strong that nobody has seen it coming.

* * *

Strength is a weakness in its own right.

The stronger a rock, the harder the blows and impacts that fall upon it.

And each blow leaves an indent, a deep one that shapes the rock and renders it with a weak spot, till the final blow arrives.

The one strong, precise and to the core, the one enough to break it off to pieces.

* * *

Sif could hide the cracks well, mask them beneath her strength, shrug them off with her sharp tongue and sarcasm or avoid them through fight and contempt.

Only Loki could see what was behind the well crafted mask of hers.

* * *

She stands on the bifrost, beside Heimdall.

She stares and stares through the void; she stares and stares towards Midgard.

"I warned you about the trickster long ago" her brother's voice is at his usual calm.

She doesn't respond.

She can't respond, one word will give her away. One word would destroy the guard she carefully constructed against the brother who was always busy, never there, the one who could see all yet nothing.

Heimdall could never understand how she felt, how she feels.

After their father's death, he receeded from her life, from the life of all of Asgard, retreated to his observatory and locked himself away for god knows what.

She needed him, she needed him most when she couldn't find him.

She needed him but he wasn't there.

Loki was.

And now he dare say he warned her, he did, but when?

When Loki was the only one there, when she was already drowning in love with him, when he could offer nothing but empty words and warnings.

She looks at him, one look conveys it all

"Save your breath brother, it is too late and so uncalled for"

* * *

She needs Thor.

She needs her best friend and comrade, the surrogate brother.

Yet, Thor isn't here this time.

Thor is so absorbed in his own grief, so infatuated by his new interest in Jane Foster.

He is drifting, drifting too far than he ever was, than she ever imagined.

* * *

The warrior three notice first.

She is becoming more aggressive, more short tempered.

She is becoming grimmer than Hogun.

She barely eats.

* * *

"I will never leave you, little one" the dad she barely knew, the dad she barely saw, the warrior who died in battle would always say.

She was so fond of her dad, despite she never knew him properly.

She remembers very long ago, when she was forced into the company of maidens how each would talk about her dad giving her away in front of Odin to her betrothed.

She remembers a pang in her chest.

She remembers a feeling, a feeling of deficiency, of anger, of abandonment

"And who would give you away, Sif?" Freya would sheepishly ask

"Heimdall, of course" Sigyn would reply.

She would dryly say that she didn't intend on marriage, that she would be a warrior, the greatest in the kingdom.

They would laugh at her.

"He never left you, Sif." Loki would always say

"He lives on in you, your courage, and your determination. You fight so much like him, so I have been told" Frigga would tell her.

Yet she could never feel him there.

She could never lean on him, or touch his hand.

The one dream that she dreamt of him, the one that stuck with her, was the one when he'd return, he would always return, only in her dreams.

* * *

War has very poor judgement, otherwise, it would have never existed.

Sif has very poor judgement, otherwise she wouldn't have fallen for the liesmith.

She wouldn't have never trusted the liesmith with everything that made her prey, everything that made her a target, and everything that made her vulnerable.

"I'd never leave"

"You are so enough for me"

When she looks back upon his words itched so deep in her memory, when she remembers the burning sincerity she thought was in his eyes, she wants to push a dagger through her heart.

How could she be so stupid? How could she be so naïve?

They meet again after he fled from Thor, they meet again in the wastes of Jotenheim.

Thor's orders are clear, capture him, alive.

He is dark, so full of hatred and rage, beyond she had ever imagined.

A frost giant is sparring with her, she slays him off quite easily.

She narrowly dodges an ice dagger, intended her direction, one coming from behind.

One so sleek and pointed and sharp that it cuts through the air.

She prays "don't let it be him, don't let it be him"

In this flick of a second she sees her history with him, so vivid, so brilliantly intact and detailed: every laughter, every prank, every brawl, every spell, and every kiss.

When she looks at the forger, she stops dead in her tracks.

"God, it is him, god , it is him" the words are heavy, looping in her mind.

Of all people, she never expected it from him.

Yes, they would fight, yes they would spar, even kill each other but one on one, face to face.

It is his betrayal that she can't take.

Him stooping that low as to stab her in the back.

* * *

She barely trusts anyone.

Not even Thor.

Not even the warrior three.

She barely sleeps.

She is becoming, so white, and so sickeningly white.

She is becoming so thin, so frail as a sheet.

* * *

Loki is captured.

He is marched to court.

His eyes so devoid of any love or respect, filled only with glints of madness and rage, burns holes in her chest as he glares at her.

His shadow keeps visiting her in her dreams.

He keeps taunting her with memories of how they used to be, secrets only entrusted to him, weaknesses only he knew and could exploit.

When she walks, she could see the shadows mould and reshape, ebb and fall haunting her wherever she goes.

She could see dark green eyes staring at her in the mirrors.

* * *

She finally snaps.

She took it as far as to try and kill a trainee who She doubted was going to strike her in the back.

He denied upon the firmest of oaths.

Fellow trainees justified his testament.

She returned to herself and remembered exactly what had happened.

The trainee is requited.

* * *

She no longer talks.

She only wanders through the sparring ring otherwise she locks herself up in her chambers, where no one is allowed, not even the maids.

Frigga, Odin, Thor and the warrior three break into her chambers.

She is balled around herself.

She isn't weeping, she isn't laughing, she is doing nothing.

Frigga takes her to her own quarters, she is going to look after her surrogate daughter, who seemed to have hit rock bottom.

* * *

A word spreads in the castle that warrior Lady Sif has lost her wits.

Whispers reach the cells beneath.

* * *

A shadow visits her in her draught induced sleep.

A shadow of someone she used to know, someone she doesn't seem to remember, someone with mischievous eyes that turn sad when he gazes at her.

Someone with a light tender touch, that brings her Jasmine whenever he visits.

Someone with Night black hair and verdant eyes.

She tells Frigga about him.

The queen smiles at her sadly before diverting her gaze to the healer.

She dreams again of a different man.

One with unclear features that would huddle her in his arms whenever he passes the door into her old house.

One who would tell her he'd never leave.

* * *

Loki demands to see Thor, for the first time since his capture.

"I want to see her"

"You'd rather not" was Thor's only reply

* * *

Thor takes him at night, when she is sleeping.

He sees the commode beside her all stacked with bottles and bottles of medications and draughts.

It is then the realisation of what he had done, of what had struck her sinks through.

Loki's eyes takes in her peaceful sleepy form, her unusually pale complexion.

He sees a tear running down the side of her face.

She is crying in her sleep.

He leans down to wipe it off.

She opened her eyes, once he touched her.

She smiles at him one beautiful, genuine smile and looks him through her sleepy eyes.

He is struck with a sword when she asks "who are you?"

Tears escape his eyes.

He asks Thor, if he could stay with her.

He asks Frigga, he asks Odin.

He gives them the solemnest of promises that he'll not attempt an escape.

Frigga is the one to deny him the stay.

" Leave her be Loki, Enough what you had done to her"

Still though, he would visit her in her dreams.

* * *

He heard she was getting better.

He begs his mother again, to allow him to visit her.

Numerous times, numerous attempts till Frigga yielded.

He visited her in the mourn.

She was awake, in the gardens with his mother.

He calls out her name.

She turned towards him, confusion scribbled all over her face at the sight of him.

A shadow of something flickers past her eyes.

She runs and runs and runs.

They keep calling after her.

They lose her through the vast gardens of the palace.

She keeps running and running till she stumbles and passes out.

It is Loki, who finds her.

He carries her through to his mother's quarters and departs without a single word.

He keeps smashing through the walls of his cell, at night, cursing himself for what he had done, how he had pushed her towards the edge through his bout of insanity, how he broke her down beyond repair, how he lost her beyond retrieve.

* * *

Asgard is under attack.

A fierce one, led by Malekeith the accursed and his minions.

There are too many of them.

Clarions bellow out and preparations are set for the upcoming war.

War is brewing, calling out for her maiden.

She can't recline.

Lady Sif seemed to be progressively returning to herself once she heard of the upcoming war.

She returned to training much to the queen's dismay.

"Don't worry my queen, I'll be fine. After all, war sings in my blood"

* * *

It was the night before battle.

Loki has been released.

He would join battle the coming day along with Thor.

He visits his mother to bid her farewell.

They meet each other there.

She holds herself well. She doesn't collapse.

She had come to thank her queen, her motherly figure for taking care of her during her meltdown.

"I am so sorry, Sif"

"Don't, we need no distractions Loki from the upcoming Battle, we can resolute our unfinished affairs later."

"Just so you know, Sif."

"I know, Loki"

"I will hold your back, tomorrow, I promise"

She smiles at him and give him a look he recognises well, the 'don't make promises you can't keep' look.

"Goodnight, Loki, Sleep well."

"Goodnight to you too Sif"

* * *

He intended on keeping his promise, however the rush and rage of battle tore him away from her.

In the end, she was the one who held his back, when the accursed aimed towards him.

She was the one who fulfilled a vow she didn't make.

She was the one who paid her life for it.

"Remember what I used to tell" she managed to choke out amidst the blood seeping from her mouth

"That you would love to die in battle" he tried to stay intact for her sake, he reigned out the sobs that were racking his body now.

No, he wouldn't waste the precious moments left with her on this.

"It was bound to happen, Loki, Don't blame yourself"

He looked at her with sorrowful eyes, a look mirroring the bittersweet smile she was giving him.

Even as she lay dying, she was stronger than him, she was noble and honourable.

She was comforting him for god's sake.

"Make sure you make to Valhalla"

"Forgive me, Sif"

"I do"

"I love you, I love you so much, Sif"

She tried to muster the last of her conscious and power to respond, despite the pain and the blur around her.

"Me…too" was the last word she said.

He let out the cry he has been muffling all along.

He collected her body and made sure it reached a safe sanction.

The next day, he made sure he aimed towards the accursed, taking him down.

* * *

He wept once, only once on his brother's shoulder.

He didn't weep again.

He had a pursuit on his mind, a resolution he has made.

He would join her in Valhalla as soon as possible.


End file.
